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Thursday, April 10th, 2002 The nights seem ever longer. All too shortly does the wheel of the sun spin through the sky it seems before I must once again rise and continue my journey. If I should never make it home it is my fond hope that someone may collect these entries and place them somewhere appropriate (a re-cycle bin maybe). But I can’t allow myself such thoughts, I have to keep faith with the thought that I will one day escape this place and see home once more. After hours of travel this night I’ve finally come to halt. I have strength left to go further but I have reached a crossroads it seems, or something that passes for one in this strange realm. A confluence of portals tower before me, the names engraved over them shining with colour and all deeply underlined. Each an instant path to its destination, each destination a mystery to me. The nature of one who could build such things I can only guess at, the records I’ve come across in this place that concern her are sketchy at best, and seem to have been written for friendly eyes. All that I can claim to know for certain so far is that she (from the images I’ve seen she must be female, no male could make my heart skip so) is most commonly referred to as ‘Morticia’. Perhaps one day I may be faced with her, or perhaps she left long ago as the records suggest. A mention of January is made in reference to the last time she was here, although what that means I could not say save that it sounds long ago indeed. Still what ever the case may be with this elusive ‘web site builder’ I cannot decide which path I must take. My only instinct is to go down the path marked ‘Tropical fish’, but in such a place I fear to rely on instinct alone. For now I will sleep once more, and perhaps waken refreshed or with some new sign.

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Wednesday, April 10th, 2002. Having wondered these pages for what seems an eternity now, the hope of ever finding my way back home seems dimmer than ever. I leave these journal entries now in the hope that one day someone will find them, and come to understand the feelings of this man lost on Tish's page. Doomed to forever walk the hours of the early morning, searching for the way out. Tonight the madness nearly had me. Cher music has been blaring out from unseen source, fraying my fragile ties to sanity. But I perservered, and now attempt to rest. No more can I move this night.

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So many people have signed since I last did that I thought I'd better return lest you forget me. Plus the whole guest book is full of me all ready and it would be criminal to break what has now become a tradition with yuor guest books ;)

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Hi Morty, do you make everyone sign here like you made me? At least now I know what Pooh sticks is :-)

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Very glad to have visited your site. My grand-daughter has a marvelous Winnie the Pooh collection. Have visited the birth place of the infamous bear. we will talk about that later. Love D

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Ok I lied when I signed your slam book & said no I hadn't had one as a kid, I remembered after I had!Blame age & memory failing!

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Pink bunnies? Like in the duracell advert, Crisp?

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Howdy! Beware pink bunnies ;-) I'm so excited you put a guestbook on...I love these things. I'm going to try the slambook experience now...i'm scared.

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Deja vue, am I the first person to sign your guest book again? .. .. .. yep, unless I'm being thicker than normal I must have been. No, seriously; I'm deeply honoured to have been the first. I'd just like to thank all the people who made this possible *sobbing* My mother, and father for giving birth to me, my teachers for not killing me,.. .. .. that girl in year 9... .. .. 'tish for setting up this page.. .. .. It's just all too wonderful. Thank you, thank you

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.. .. .. How could I not sign the guest book of one of my favourite people currently existing on this plane of reality? Nice to see the long overdue update has taken place. All my love, as usual, Laguna x x x